


as crickets herald spring

by enbaisant (enpleurs)



Series: when the sun lives in hell [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Canon Typical Undressed Penises, M/M, but they do bonk, emperor redux, gratuitous descriptions of music and not enough boinking, i only write birthday porn, kinda sorta historical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enpleurs/pseuds/enbaisant
Summary: Or where Hakyeon takes Taekwoon to their cabin by the lake, Taekwoon plays the flute, and they sleep together.( An AU outtake from The Fic, wherein Taekwoon fights for his rightful throne and Hakyeon would do anything to help him. )
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N/Jung Taekwoon | Leo
Series: when the sun lives in hell [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007883
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	as crickets herald spring

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL, WHINY, CLINGY, TODDLER PRINCE. Slamming this in before Taekwoon's birthday is over for once!
> 
> An AU outtake from The Fic, wherein Taekwoon fights for his rightful throne and Hakyeon would do anything to help him. After Taekwoon nearly dies, and before shit is about to go down. Again. This is sadly AU.

Dust greeted them when the door to the small house opened. It became a plume of silver in the deep noon sun, cascading past them and into the world beyond. Taekwoon coughed, drawing a look of concern from Hakyeon who'd gone in ahead of him.

"I don't like the dust," Taekwoon said.

Hakyeon's frown smacked of distrust but he didn't push it, just went inside, unlatching and opening each window as he passed. As he did, light filled the room, illuminating every piece of old furniture exactly how Taekwoon remembered it. 

"Brings back the memories," Hakyeon said. He glanced back at Taekwoon like he'd heard his thoughts. 

"Mm."

Taekwoon walked to a stacked bench, flipping it over so it sat right side up on the floor. His hand came away dark and dusty when he wiped at it. Taekwoon grimaced, staring at his hand like it'd somehow betrayed him. 

Hakyeon laughed when he saw him standing there.

"Settle Ray and Old Black, I'll clean up here," Hakyeon said.

Taekwoon, with no strong desire to help Hakyeon inside, obediently left the small house to find the horses.

Both Hakyeon's bay mare and his own fierce stallion were munching on the overgrown grass. While Ray barely gave him a glance, Old Black lifted his head and whinnied when he saw Taekwoon approach. Taekwoon laughed, giving Old Black a good rub on his nose.

"Hakyeon said to settle you two," Taekwoon told them. His left arm was still lightly splinted, so he looped both their reins with his right hand as he walked over to where he and Hakyeon had set up a small stable of sorts several years ago. It didn't seem like it'd rain tonight, but it made Taekwoon feel better knowing that there was a roof they could shelter under if it did. It wasn't much, just a crude wooden addition to the side of the house, which itself wasn't much more than a woodcutter's shack.

Taekwoon lingered with the horses, leaning against Old Black, resting his head against the stallion's neck. He was warm, something Taekwoon appreciated, because even though the early spring days had lost their chill, there'd been a bit of a wind on the ride here. But he'd be damned if he'd let Hakyeon know he'd been cold.

Taekwoon emerged into full sun, and without the wind it was pleasant. He glanced back at the house—plain, unpainted, unremarkable in every way except that at some point, it'd become _theirs_ , him and Hakyeon. Which made it special. He thought briefly of going inside, of seeing if Hakyeon needed any help—but Hakyeon would chase him out anyway and Taekwoon wasn't keen on dealing with more dust. 

He decided to sit by the lake instead.

It was a fair size, large enough that he couldn't see the other shore. If they'd come a few weeks earlier ice would still spider across the surface, reaching out from the shore. There hadn't been the time. 

They didn't have the time now, either, but Hakyeon had insisted, and there was the nagging unease again, that something was _wrong_ , that Hakyeon was making up for something he'd done. That was often what drove them here. They hadn't been in almost a full year.

A nice place. Quiet. Difficult to stumble upon, a good distance into the woods from the road. They didn't know who'd built the house or who'd lived in it, but by the time they'd found it, it was empty and abandoned and perfect for two boys with a thirst of adventure to turn into their own. There were two rooms, but they rarely used both.

Hakyeon would clean out both, either way.

Taekwoon breathed in the sweet, clean air, as different from the city or battlefield that one could get. Waves lapped against rocks some distance away. From where Taekwoon sat it was a quiet sound, quiet enough to be imagined. The water would be cold this time of the year—it was always cold, but with winter still a reminder in the air, it would be very cold. Taekwoon hated being cold.

Trees surrounded them on all sides, great towering trees that seemed older than time. Small saplings struggled in the spaces between, fighting for sun in a battle they'd undoubtedly lose. The trees were still sparse, the green on bare branches more bud than leaf. With the sun still high in the sky, the shadows the trees cast were short. Their reflections still wavered on the surface of the water, small ripples distorting an otherwise mirror clear image. Fish would occasionally skim the surface, a frog would leap in from the shore, a bird would plummet like a stone and emerge victorious with its next meal clutched in beak or claw. Things you'd never see in the city.

But it was the quiet that Taekwoon liked the best. There could be quiet at home, surrounded by thick stone walls and hidden as deep in their gardens as he could manage, but it wasn't the same as the quiet by the lake. Birdsong wasn't contained to a puddle, the wind was music itself as it rustled through the reeds. There was a stillness in the air that every movement, every moment, was a delicate note, cascading to create a piece richer than the most talented mortal could compose. As if it were the music of the gods themselves.

Taekwoon closed his eyes against the sun, tilted his head up so that warmth illuminated his face. The world was red through his eyelids, the shapes of the heavens incoherent and indistinct. It was warm. He leaned back, first propped on his elbows and then lying down in his patch of sun. He could still hear the birds and the wind and the water and the faint warble of a frog, somewhere in the distance. The rustle of leaves, the swaying of the branches. The damp, earthy smell of the ground, the fresh, clean smell of the lake. There was a large, flat rock near the shore that he delighted in sprawling across during the summer, letting his feet dangle off the edges into the cold water below, as he basked in the warmth of the sun. If he stayed very still, he could feel the minnows brushing against his feet, his bare legs a world apart, acutely aware of where the water ended and where the truth began. The stone would always be warm and dry under him.

The grass was damp. Not wet, but damp with the proximity to the ground and from the shadow that Taekwoon cast between it and the sun. It seeped through Taekwoon's clothes but he wore so many layers, the dampness barely touched his skin. It was a cool contrast to the sun that shone on his face. 

"You'll catch a cold like that." Hakyeon's voice floated from gently beside him. It took Taekwoon some moments to blink his eyes open enough to find Hakyeon sitting next to him. There was a bleariness in his thoughts that signalled he'd drowsed off, and the visible tilt of the sun in the sky provided the passing of time. 

Taekwoon grunted something and started to sit up. He'd lifted his head an inch off the ground before he decided against it and fell solidly back down to the earth again. Hakyeon sighed loudly, and then lifted Taekwoon's head into his own lap.

"It'll be troublesome if you get sick now," Hakyeon said.

It would be, Taekwoon agreed. He lay there for a few more moments using Hakyeon as a pillow before he worked his way upright. Dizziness immediately washed over him and he had to close his eyes for a few moments against the blackness that washed over his vision. Hakyeon was there to catch him when he fell, holding Taekwoon close to his chest. He could feel Hakyeon's chest rising and falling with each breath Hakyeon took, and slowly, Taekwoon's breath began to even into a matching rhythm. His hands clasped at Hakyeon's arms, which had come to rest loosely about Taekwoon's waist.

It was warm like that, in the early afternoon sun.

"Go sleep inside, the bed is clean," Hakyeon murmured, his words soft against Taekwoon's ear. 

Taekwoon sat up, gently pulling himself out of Hakyeon's arms. "I don't want to sleep," he said.

When Taekwoon twisted around so he could look at Hakyeon, his companion's face was half illuminated by that same early afternoon sun. Hakyeon's own warmth outshone it and Taekwoon was overwhelmed with a sudden desire to embrace it. And then Hakyeon smiled, and in a moment of weakness Taekwoon lunged forward, wrapping his arms about Hakyeon's waist. Hakyeon's breath hitched in surprise and it took a moment before he wrapped his own arms about Taekwoon, hands pressed flat against Taekwoon's back.

"You're warm," Taekwoon murmured into Hakyeon's shoulder. It was too soft for Hakyeon to hear.

"So are you," Hakyeon said. It made Taekwoon smile, because Hakyeon had heard after all. 

A minute passed with the two of them simply holding each other close. Basking in each other's warmth, in the steady beat of their heart, in the sheer being of being alive. 

Hakyeon separated first, sitting back enough so he could cup Taekwoon's cheek with his hand. His eyes were intense on Taekwoon, and Taekwoon felt an inexplicable rush of warmth in his face. 

"You don't want to rest?" Hakyeon asked.

"This is rest," Taekwoon said. He looked about them, at the peace, at the water and the trees and the birds and the fish. He looked at the almost tangible quiet enveloping them, and then back at Hakyeon, the most important piece of it all.

As if reading Taekwoon's thoughts, Hakyeon's lips melted into a smile. His fingers trailed against Taekwoon's skin as he let go, an unwillingness there that Taekwoon felt deep in his own chest.

"It is," Hakyeon said, finally sitting back. He shifted so he and Taekwoon were sitting side by side, their shoulders pressed against each other, their gazes directed outwards over the lake. In an unconscious gesture, Hakyeon's hand found Taekwoon's, and Taekwoon's fingers found Hakyeon's. Their hands came together, their fingers laced, hidden in the shadow cast between them until Taekwoon pulled their hands onto his lap and leaned to let his head fall against Hakyeon's shoulder.

Birdsong trilled in the wind and the wind wrapped around them. Hakyeon leaned into Taekwoon, and when Taekwoon lifted his head it was the easiest thing to catch Taekwoon in a kiss, soft and gentle as the birdsong around them. Taekwoon stilled, braced in the wind, lips parting in a breath. Hakyeon smiled into the kiss, and Taekwoon could feel the soft motion against his own chapped lips. 

The breeze faded, and they both sat back. From here, the sun cut a path in front of them, drawing the shadows of trees on the western shore to flicker on the lake. He squeezed Hakyeon's hand, and Hakyeon squeezed back.

"I like it here," Taekwoon said to himself. And then to Hakyeon: "I miss it."

"Me too," Hakyeon said.

"Is that why you wanted to come?"

"Mm. It's been a while," Hakyeon said. His words were cut with silence, and when Taekwoon chanced a glance beside him, there was a tight look on Hakyeon's face. Hakyeon hadn't seemed to notice Taekwoon watching, and it took some time before his jaw unclenched, the tension in his lips relaxed, the intensity in his eyes faded. An exhale, a tightening of his grip on Taekwoon's hand. His eyes still looking out over the lake. 

"A while," Taekwoon repeated softly. It had been.

"So many things are different, but this place is always the same," Hakyeon said. "It always feels the same."

"It's quiet," Taekwoon said.

"It is," Hakyeon agreed. "I hope it never changes."

"Why would it?" Taekwoon asked—but it was a foolish question. All things changed, and it was naive to think that their pocket of solace would remain untouched by time. Hakyeon didn't need to answer, and he didn't.

So many things were different. So many things had changed.

The last time they'd come here they'd still had a mother, Taekwoon still had a father, and his father had still been the Emperor. These were no longer true.

It was difficult to banish these thoughts once they'd arisen and guilt wormed into Taekwoon's chest. Hakyeon had brought them here so, for the briefest moment, they could rest and put aside that burden, however selfish it might have been.

For Hakyeon, the selfishness came from elsewhere, because he recalled the words of their mother to take care of each other, and Hakyeon would take care of Taekwoon in any way he could for as long as they lived. For Hakyeon, it was the easing of the weight on Taekwoon's shoulders that he sought, and the guilt that spiked inside him came from calling such thoughts to mind. 

That, and the reason why the trip had to be now, why it couldn't wait for Taekwoon's complete recovery.

But like Taekwoon, Hakyeon tried his best to push these thoughts aside. 

"I brought something," Hakyeon suddenly said.

Taekwoon glanced at him, jolted out of his thoughts. The loss of warmth was disorienting when Hakyeon stood, and there was an odd pang of loss when Hakyeon let go of Taekwoon's hand. The emptiness Taekwoon felt was more than just the emptiness in his palm.

He had to twist around to see Hakyeon disappear back into the hut, and then watched through the open windows as Hakyeon moved quickly to where they'd left the saddlebags. He rummaged around for a few seconds and then reappeared from the hut as quickly as he'd disappeared. Like an apparition, Hakyeon was suddenly in front of Taekwoon.

"Hakyeon?" Taekwoon frowned.

Hakyeon responded by drawing a flute from his sleeve. Taekwoon's old flute. He held it out to Taekwoon and as if in a trance, Taekwoon's fingers wrapped around the familiar smooth bamboo. When Hakyeon let go, Taekwoon's grip instinctively tightened.

"You haven't played in a while," Hakyeon said quietly, looking into Taekwoon's eyes.

Taekwoon lifted his arm, the one that'd been grotesquely broken a month and then some time ago. Hakyeon just kept _looking_ at him, and Taekwoon understood why. Taekwoon knew that Hakyeon didn't only mean his arm. It'd been much longer since he'd last played.

"Will you?" Hakyeon asked, and his voice was gentle, all question and no obligation, but Taekwoon wished there was.

As if it was the weight of a thousand suns, Taekwoon cradled it in two hands. It looked strange in his hands, which hadn't held a single instrument in longer than he could recall. After everything, it hadn't seemed right. 

But here was Hakyeon asking him, and Taekwoon could never find it in himself to deny Hakyeon anything. 

So in answer, Taekwoon brought the flute to his lips and took a breath.

His fingers felt stiff and clumsy, and his first note wavered, uncertain. He played that note again, drawing the sweet sound into a long sigh, letting it glide into the next, a single tone up.

It was a freeing tone, a liberating tone, and captured the two of them in a fragile spell woven with spider silk. 

The wind and the birds quieted, as if making way for the trill of Taekwoon's flute, soft and sweet and cautious.

And Hakyeon listened. He watched Taekwoon, looked into his eyes, and then sat there in front of Taekwoon, seeing the notes take shape behind closed eyelids, the colours of the wind that Taekwoon drew from the air. 

His fingers were stiff and clumsy, but as he played the music took hold and the familiar timbre of his flute worked its way through his skin and into his bones. Taekwoon's mind drifted as he played and his own eyes fell shut. It didn't matter when he could feel Hakyeon near him as surely as if he'd been watching him with his own eyes.

The first time they had come here they'd been young.

They'd stumbled on the lake on a morning ride, letting Ray and Old Black run free down empty roads like they yearned to. The shack had been no more than a shack, clearly abandoned and buried in dust. Whoever had built it had built it with care—despite its outward state, when he and Hakyeon had opened that door for the first time, dust spilling out as a cloud of gold in the warm evening sun, the room itself seemed untouched by the barrage of time. There were no cracks in the wooden roof, the windows were stalwart guards against the elements, and by some miracle the furniture had escaped the blight of pests.

They stayed for a week, and by the end of that week they had cleaned it of dust, made a few small repairs, erected a temporary shelter for the horses, and had made it _theirs_. The next time Hakyeon would bring bedding and leave it in a chest. There was a hidden storage under the floor, and it was a good place to keep wine. The temporary shelter became a small stable, chairs were fashioned to go with the table, and the shelves were stocked with cookware.

Meanwhile, the lake outside the house remained the same.

It was the lake that Taekwoon played now, letting each cycle of breath be the waves lapping against the shore, the quick flutter of his fingering be the frogs in the distance, the calm, low tones painting the age old trees. The trees still bent with the wind, protectors and guardians of the lake, shielding it from the outside world. Taekwoon let green buds on bare branches unfurl into bright leaves, and the proud summer sun nurtured them into a canopy. He hinted at the soft fade of autumn, of the myriad of colours, and let the last note trail off in a quiet whisper.

And then he played of Hakyeon.

His warmth. His kindness. The golden glow of his skin the first time they kissed in the early dawn sun. The gentle touch of Hakyeon's hands, the comfort when they held each other, palm to palm. 

When Taekwoon opened his eyes, it was to look into Hakyeon's eyes, and what Taekwoon could've sworn was the sun itself. 

With his next breath, Taekwoon let hope take hold. It was airier, lighter, his fingers faster. It was hard—hard to keep these past few months at bay, hard to look into the future and convince himself that brightness awaited them. The only reason he could, the only reason he had any reason to believe that anything but darkness lay ahead—that reason sat in front of him, radiating everything that Taekwoon could never hope to be.

Hakyeon was beautiful. Beautiful in more ways than one.

There was his smile, the soft one. These notes were slower, rounder, and Taekwoon let them lilt up as he glided from one to the next, infusing them with joy. It made Hakyeon's smile widen and Taekwoon brightened his notes as well, until they matched the brightness in Hakyeon's eyes. His flute chirped like young birds in spring, taking flight for the first time. Like dawn dew on flowers, each drop glistening with the sun. This was Hakyeon's laugh, the carefree one, when his eyes would crinkle and there was nothing in Hakyeon but joy. There was the quiet smile too, the one that Hakyeon seemed to settle unwittingly into. Taekwoon drew out each note, letting them linger, hovering in the clear, clean air, allowing them to drift with the wind.

And with it came a hint of sadness. He didn't push it away because it would be unfair to Hakyeon and unfair to them both. Taekwoon couldn't know that his eyes had drifted shut because he'd turned into himself with the first, low note. It was hollow and empty, but his very next breath was full, the music wavering in a tremor that slowed and then quickened until the pitch slid from that note to the next, a single step up without it feeling like a different note at all.

He yearned then for the accompaniment that Hakyeon would provide, when Hakyeon's fingers danced across the strings of his qin, quick and deft and delicate, or slow and mellow in turn, always fitting himself into Taekwoon's music in ways that Taekwoon could never understand. All he knew was that it made his music richer. Like everything Hakyeon did.

When Taekwoon opened his eyes, it was to see Hakyeon with his eyes lightly shut, and it was then that he recalled one winter evening when the wind was cold and the dark was bitter and the sky had been clear and silver. A sliver of the moon, and Hakyeon had said, as if to himself, that it was the moon that made him brave. The moon might've made Hakyeon brave, but it was Hakyeon who was Taekwoon's light in the night. In Taekwoon's hands, the moon became a softer version of the sun. A refrain, each tone a mirror higher. Just like the clear tone of the birds, the brightness of spring compared to the muted colours of fall, the moon took form as the cool silver of frost to the warm glow of the sun. 

And just as the moon could shine brighter than anything in the sky, Taekwoon let it hang in the air for a moment alone, until silence took natural hold and true daylight won over the quiet of the night.

Just as the flute had been the weight of a thousand suns when it'd first rested in his hands, it was the weight of reluctance that slowed Taekwoon's movements as he lowered it to his lap. 

The afternoon was bright. As that last note faded and the sun reclaimed its rightful space, Taekwoon was struck by how bright it was, and by how bright Hakyeon was under its warm rays. For long moments neither of them spoke, consumed with each other in the silent connection of their souls. Words were trite when they could simply look into each other's eyes, and understand the other as thoroughly as a painting, as deeply as a thousand poems.

In the end, like it so often was, it was Hakyeon who broke the silence. He leaned forward, his hands placed on Taekwoon's, Taeakwoon's hands still clutching at his flute.

"Thank you," Hakyeon said. Barely louder than a whisper, but it resounded in Taekwoon's bones like the fiercest clap of thunder. 

Hakyeon was beautiful.

Taekwoon leaned forward and kissed him, kissed this man who was his other half, his brother in ways deeper than blood, the one that Taekwoon would give himself to protect and defend ten thousand times over. If fate ever separated them, Taekwoon would bridge the heavens to join Hakyeon, no matter the cost.

Kissing Hakyeon was like bathing in moonlight. Hakyeon's fingers found their gentle way to cup the back of Taekwoon's neck, holding Taekwoon close. The callouses on Hakyeon's palms were well known patterns against Taekwoon's skin.

"Shall we go inside?" Hakyeon asked, their foreheads touching, their breath mingling.

"I would like to rest a little," Taekwoon admitted. Rest in a bed, with the comfort of blankets. He knew it was what Hakyeon had meant when he'd asked that question.

Hakyeon stood first, and Taekwoon grabbed Hakyeon's hand, gripping his flute tight in his left as Hakyeon helped Taekwoon to his feet. He would never say it, but there was a faint, pulsing ache in his left arm, the sort that meant he'd overexerted himself. For once, Hakyeon didn't seem to notice as they made their way back inside, shoulders bumping, hand in hand. 

Taekwoon slept, and by the time he woke it was nearing evening, the sun not yet the warm glow of pink. There was a small fire outside, and beside it was a familiar figure. Hakyeon turned and smiled, when he saw Taekwoon, more radiant than the setting sun, and beckoned him to sit. They would often go hunting for small game on these trips, but in an unspoken agreement they'd chosen not to. Already, Taekwoon missed the smoky aroma of well-seasoned rabbit, and they'd yet to even eat.

Now that Taekwoon was all but whole, it'd be folly to test fate.

Instead, as Taekwoon sat by the warm fire, Hakyeon waded into the water, spearing several fish to cook. They ate as the sun set, embers sparking from the fire, warded from the cold even as darkness heralded the evening chill. They shared wine from the secret cellar, warmed in a flask set near the dwindling embers.

And eventually, as the last of the flames flickered into crumbling ashes, allowing darkness to flood the earth while the moon outshone the stars in the sky, the two of them left the lapping waves to enter their own place. _Their_ place. No one but the two of them.

The windows were still flung open and the moon, nearly full, shone through them, the light a silver sash sprawled across the floor. They went to the bed, the blankets still pushed aside from when Taekwoon had awoken, and sat down, hand still in hand.

Taekwoon was beautiful.

It wasn't the first time Hakyeon had thought this and it was far from the last, but it was breathtaking each and every time.

It was the softness, the one that no one but Hakyeon was allowed to see. In moments like these where the world outside was dark and his profile was more shadow than light, Hakyeon's heart swelled with that knowledge. 

It was easy to find Taekwoon handsome. Fierce, strong, and handsome. His height, the broadness of his shoulders, his piercing expression—people spoke of all of it. Hakyeon agreed, particularly when the sun was high and Taekwoon stood in a training yard, or when the sun had barely risen and the wind was cold and Taekwoon stood proud and tall, surveying a battlefield. In moments like those, Hakyeon shared the same thoughts.

This wasn't one of those moments. This was one of those hidden from the world, one of those moments for Hakyeon alone.

"Are you tired?" Hakyeon asked, and he selfishly wished for one particular answer.

"No," Taekwoon said, and Hakyeon's heart skipped a beat at Taekwoon's slight smile. "I slept earlier."

"So you did," Hakyeon said. It gave him the courage to leave a soft kiss on Taekwoon's forehead. 

Taekwoon cupped Hakyeon's cheek and pulled him closer to kiss him again. This time their breaths mingled, the faint scent of wine still on their tongues as they shifted, Taekwoon's hand on Hakyeon's shoulder. Taekwoon's eyes had fallen shut, learning Hakyeon through taste and touch alone, hands roving down Hakyeon's arms.

There was a hungry eagerness in Taekwoon tonight that Hakyeon had forgotten existed. 

Hakyeon wished he could see, but Taekwoon had buried his face in the crook of Hakyeon's shoulder, his mouth hot and damp against Hakyeon's skin. Hakyeon squirmed, hand cupping the back of Taekwoon's head, urging him on, tilting his head as Taekwoon's teeth found the tender part of Hakyeon's skin. Hakyeon gasped, his breath coming with a small whine. He didn't know when Taekwoon had managed, but Hakyeon's clothes was pushed past his shoulders, the front unfastened. Hakyeon shivered as the cold hit his skin.

"Taekwoon," Hakyeon managed, that one word weak and breathy.

Taekwoon only hummed something against Hakyeon's skin, soft and indistinct. His kisses trailed down, Hakyeon moans filling the emptiness of the room. In the next moment, Taekwoon's teeth closed around the skin, thin against Hakyeon's collarbone and Hakyeon couldn't help the loud cry, warmth tingling through his body. Here, Hakyeon didn't need to hide his sounds, not when there was no one outside, no one to possibly hear.

There was no resistance when Taekwoon pushed Hakyeon back so he was lying on the bed. Taekwoon hovered over him, his eyes hungry, his lips wet with spit. He'd bared Taekwoon's chest, and without warning attacked the fasteners of Hakyeon's pants, tugging them down as soon as he was able. Hakyeon hissed, the rough movement beyond sensitive against his cock. He knew what was coming, but nothing could've prepared Hakyeon for the heat of Taekwoon's mouth.

" _Ahh!_ "

Hakyeon moaned, unable to stop himself from bucking his hips upwards, straining into Taekwoon's mouth. Taekwoon swallowed around Hakyeon, his lip pressing hard against the underside of Hakyeon's cock. His lips closed about Hakyeon, as he began to slide his mouth up and down the length of Hakyeon's shaft. The wet sound of spit easing the slide of Taekwoon's lips tied knots in Hakyeon's stomach. His fingers gripped at Taekwoon's shoulder, so tight that he was sure to leave bruises. An entire field of stars swam in Hakyeon's vision, Taekwoon pulling back to suckle at the head of Hakyeon's cock.

He could feel it—feel every small motion of Taekwoon's tongue, of Taekwoon's lips, of the back of Taekwoon's mouth when Taekwoon slid down the length of Hakyeon's cock. Hakyeon's entire body tensed when Taekwoon slurped messily around Hakyeon, wet and heat and touch all mixed into one, overwhelming yet distinct rush.

When Taekwoon pulled back, leaving Hakyeon's cock hard and hot and heavy, Hakyeon nearly shoved Taekwoon back down onto his cock in desperation.

But Taekwoon heaved upwards, knocking Hakyeon's hand back and leaving Hakyeon dazed. Taekwoon was staring down at him, his lips glistening in the moonlight, his eyes dark and heavy.

"I want you," Taekwoon said. His voice had the hoarse roughness of having swallowed Hakyeon's cock. Hakyeon swallowed, knowing exactly what Taekwoon meant.

And like always, Hakyeon would never say no.

He pulled Taekwoon down to lie next to him, and then rolled over so that he was now the one straddling Taekwoon. Taekwoon looked up at him, eyes dark in the moonlit room.

"I want you," Taekwoon repeated, and this time it was barely a whisper.

"Shush," Hakyeon said. He placed a gentle kiss against Taekwoon's lips, and pushed himself up before Taekwoon could deepen it. 

Hakyeon was much more gentle than Taekwoon had been, undressing Taekwoon with care. He slid Taekwoon's shirt off his arms, tracing the scars left throughout the years. There were so many, and so many of them were new. Hakyeon ran his thumb across one, still an angry red. Hakyeon should've been there. Hakyeon should've stopped every single sword or spear or arrow that had cut at Taekwoon. Not a single one of these scars should've marred Taekwoon's skin.

As if understanding Hakyeon's thoughts, Taekwoon reached up and brushed a finger across Hakyeon's lips. Like he was quieting Hakyeon, even though Hakyeon hadn't said a single word.

Neither of them needed to.

Hakyeon bent down and placed a kiss where his fingers had been, and then he kissed another scar, older and faded.

Yet this wasn't what Taekwoon wanted, and Hakyeon knew that. He was gentle removing Taekwoon's pants as well, until Taekwoon lay bare and naked beneath him.

"Beautiful," Hakyeon couldn't stop himself from saying. Taekwoon flushed and looked away. No one else would ever call Taekwoon beautiful.

Taekwoon's cock was beginning to harden, and it was heavy against Hakyeon's palm when he took it in his hand. Hakyeon watched Taekwoon's eyes shut, his mouth fall open, small sounds escaping Taekwoon's wet lips. Hakyeon tightens his grip, gives Taekwoon's cock an experimental stroke. Taekwoon's cry fills the room, and if they were anywhere else Hakyeon would lean down and catch it in his own mouth, but here, tonight, Hakyeon lets Taekwoon's voice fill the silence around them. He brushes his finger across the head of Taekwoon's cock. It's hot and wet and Hakyeon smears the precome down the length of Taekwoon's cock. It makes Taekwoon squirm, push against Hakyeon's touch him. Hakyeon lets him once, twice, and then he holds Taekwoon down so firmly he couldn't move even if he wanted to escape.

Taekwoon didn't want to escape. His eyes snapped open and met Hakyeon's. 

Hakyeon understood. He lifted his hand from Taekwoon's hip and Taekwoon's legs fell open. Holding Taekwoon's gaze, Hakyeon brought his fingers to his own lips, his tongue curling out. He drew his tongue down one finger, and then sucked his fingers into his mouth. Hakyeon swallowed around his own fingers, still watching Taekwoon, watching how Taekwoon swallowed as well, his lips parted.

It was far from ideal, but Taekwoon was relaxed enough that it was easy for Hakyeon to work his fingers into Taekwoon's ass. His own cock throbbed with need and his skin was flush with sweat. Taekwoon moaned with every twist of Hakyeon's fingers, his ass clenching around them. Hakyeon let Taekwoon fuck himself on his fingers, Taekwoon squirming to get closer to Hakyeon, his ankles catching around Hakyeon and pulling him close. Little sounds of desperation spilled through Taekwoon's wet lips, and Hakyeon was torn between kissing them, biting them, and letting Taekwoon cry out.

Hakyeon would rather hear Taekwoon.

He kicked his own pants fully off, until he was as naked as Taekwoon was. In one, swift movement, Hakyeon thrust into Taekwoon, settling deep inside of him until they were as close as two people could ever be.

Taekwoon cried out loudly, the sound torn from his throat when Hakyeon pushed in. Taekwoon was still so tight and Hakyeon worried if he should've waited, if he should've eased himself in, but then Taekwoon clenched around him and met his eyes. The intensity in Taekwoon's eyes was all Hakyeon needed.

He snapped his hips back, thrusting into Taekwoon in ceaseless motions. Taekwoon's thighs spread open, his ankles catching around Hakyeon's body. He _needed_ and he _wanted_ and just as much did Hakyeon need Taekwoon. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh was almost as loud as Taekwoon's cries, as they faded into desperate mewls, Taekwoon pushing and moving to match Hakyeon's thrusts. Precome and spit eased the slide of Hakyeon's cock in Taekwoon's ass, but the dry burn of pain still resounded in Taekwoon. It only made him cry out louder but this was what he wanted too.

He wanted Hakyeon, and he wanted Hakyeon to use him. He wanted Hakyeon to fuck him even though it hurt—he _wanted_ it to hurt and his eyes glazed over until his body no longer seemed his. In that moment, every bit of him belonged to Hakyeon—every bit of Hakyeon was in Taekwoon. He wanted Hakyeon, always so perfectly composed, to lose control of himself. To release the raw desire for power that all people craved—for Hakyeon to exert that power over Taekwoon. Taekwoon gripped Hakyeon's shoulders, so tight that Hakyeon couldn't escape even if he wanted to.

Hakyeon didn't want to escape. He wanted this, _needed_ this. Through a faint haze, he felt the animalstic urge that'd taken over him. It didn't matter. All Hakyeon knew to do was to chase his own pleasure—because he knew. Deep down, he knew that this was what Taekwoon craved, and Hakyeon would never deny Taekwoon anything.

He fucked Taekwoon hard, shoving Taekwoon further up the bed until his head hit the wall. Taekwoon cried out at the impact, his eyes briefly opening.

Even through the raw need for pleasure, Hakyeon couldn't help but see the world reflected in Taekwoon's eyes.

Hakyeon's rhythm increased until there wasn't much of a rhythm at all, just a mindless series of sharp, shallow thrusts. His entire body felt wound up, his heart pounding, breaths loud. And when Taekwoon clenched around him again, Hakyeon's hips stuttered as he came into Taekwoon, his come filling every part inside him.

Hakyeon thrust weakly into Taekwoon a few more times, Taekwoon fucking himself onto Hakyeon's sensitive cock as Hakyeon's orgasm shuddered through him. Hakyeon leaned over Taekwoon, his forehead pressed against Taekwoon's chest, stray strands of hair plastered against his face with sweat. Taekwoon placed a hand against Hakyeon's bare back, running it down soothingly, almost unconsciously. Taekwoon's other hand moved to his cock, and he gasped at the first contact.

Taekwoon's gasp stirred something in Hakyeon, Hakyeon lifting himself with the bleariness that came with sex. He shuffled back, just enough so that he could bend down and take Taekwoon's hard, aching cock into his mouth.

That was enough for Taekwoon to come, and for Hakyeon to swallow it all.

They lay there afterwards, Hakyeon's come wet and filthy leaking out of Taekwoon's ass and sticking to his thighs. It was Hakyeon that reached for their clothes, spreading it over them in a make-shift blanket. They pressed up against each other, Taekwoon's back against Hakyeon's chest, Hakyeon holding Taekwoon tight and Taekwoon gripping Hakyeon's arms.

They slept until the sun rose, Hakyeon waking first. The moon had been replaced by the light of dawn, and it was that warm, dim glow that shone on Taekwoon's face.

Careful not to disturb him, Hakyeon went to wash and dress in the early dawn, the water frigid from the night. He filled a basin of water, intending to heat it for Taekwoon to use, but just as he turned, the door opened and Taekwoon walked out, the sunrise lending his face an ethereal glow.

Taekwoon had dressed loosely, clutching the jacket that Hakyeon had left over him around his shoulders. He had the dazed look of someone still asleep, but his eyes came to life when they found Hakyeon.

Wordlessly, Hakyeon placed the basin onto the ground. Grass whispered under Taekwoon's bare feet, the dew lingering on Taekwoon's skin. He tipped his head up to meet Taekwoon's kiss when Taekwoon stepped up to him. Their hands found each other's, as they watched the sun slowly make its way into the world.

They watched in silence until the sun went from being a sliver of light, to a half disk of gold and pink and orange, until it burned so bright they could no longer look at it. They gazed instead at the opposite shore, where somewhere, far beyond what they could see, lay their home which they would soon return to.

"I want to stay like this forever," Taekwoon said softly. "I hope this never changes."

A twinge of guilt shot through Hakyeon's chest as he gripped Taekwoon's hand.

It was another clear day, and the sun would illuminate the world unobstructed. Hakyeon couldn't hold back a shaky laugh.

"Yes," he said. "That would be nice."

**Author's Note:**

> beancat has something to say:
> 
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> ,....


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